You Got It Prodigy

[Intro]
Yo, yo, Al, hold up, son
Go into the file, son
The Chemistry Files, son, you know'mean?
The secret, top secret files
Pull out some exclusives, son

Let me drop this gangsta shit on 'em right quick, man

[Verse 1]
Yo, freestyle, New York style for DJ's and listeners
Y'all got somethin' to turn up now
This one you gotta bring back and request back
For my people in the Tri-State part of the map
This represents you but the other parts feel the same too
So we gotta spread love to the youth
We pop bub for them, pop Henny for the crew
Shoot a lead slab in you for speaking out the roof
Of your head, that was a bright idea
But when your light bulb got popped, how that feel?
These niggas is freakin' twerps
They could never match my wit and match my work
Not to mention the paper or the jewels I work with
But that don't count, we had those when we was kids
Shorty pose with they tits and they puss' for the film
Few fat bitches upset 'cause I ain't wanna drill 'em
Listen, this is what life sound like
On the streets where I'm from, this what death sound like
We strictly the theme song or the anthem, dunn
You can't do what we do, this is sacred to us